Weaver's Web
by TLOSpyrogirl
Summary: Morida, a young Dream Weaver, has lived her life in peace. Her only problem is that she just can't seem to weave dreams correctly. But her world is about to be turned upside down, thanks to a certain purple dragon. Classic Series.
1. Just Another Day

**A/N:**

**I started this on April Fools Day! Get it? April FOOLS Day? … ._. You guys are no fun.**

**Okay, here's the rundown. This will be following the events of the definitely first two and probably third CLASSIC Spyro games. Now, don't click back yet! It's going to be different. Nothing like The Legend of Crystal, if you've read it. For starters, I'm going to to make my own subworlds—one of which is mentioned in this chapter. Also, she won't be just following Spyro around... and a few other things will be different. Enjoy. ;D**

**The cover was found by checking "Free to use or share" on Google's Advanced Image search of a spiderweb. Therefore, I have permission to use this image.**

**Oh! And my musical inspiration is ****Glide -The Piano Pony Album by PonyVisation.**

* * *

_Dedicated to Mom_

_I hope your day is okay_

_That skies are blue and not stormy grey_

_But there's just one thing I just wanted to say_

_Happy (early) Mother's Day_

* * *

"Morida! Calho! Time to wake up!" Mother's call wafted up in the room like the air on a warm summer day.

Yawning, I blinked a few times and rose, pushing the baby-blue blanket off me. Folding it back over my circular bed, I tucked it in and smoothed out the wrinkles. I liked to be up immediately with no wasted time.

Turning, I strode over the the window and pushed it open, happily breathing in the burst of fresh air. I peered out of the half-crescent hole and down at the land below. Already some of the other dragons were walking about, some quickly travelling through portals and others weaving, so Mother must have woken us a bit later than usual.

"Cal, come on," I said, walking over to Calho's bed and giving his royal blue shoulder a light push.

"Wha-_at?"_ Cal complained, rolling over and glaring at me with his big eyes, the colour of forget-me-nots. Cal was very cute when he wasn't throwing a tantrum or giving me the evil eye.

"Mother says to get up," I replied, glaring back. Calho was either going to throw a fit or do what I told him; that's just the way he was.

"Alright," Cal said, deciding to be agreeable today. He jumped out of bed and scurried out of the room, not even bothering to make his bed before he went. I rolled my eyes. He could be so messy sometimes, even for a five-year-old.

As I skipped off towards the stairs, I stopped at the mirror next to the doorway to glance at my reflection. My scales were cyan-coloured and my eyes were green, a fairly normal trait, but my underbelly, horns, and wings were light yellow. This was a rather atypical feature of Dream Weavers; every last one that I knew had pale green-white highlights with just a tinge of yellow. I always shrugged off the unusual color, though, figuring it had something to do with those "genies" Mother had told me about.

"Good morning, Mother!" I chirped, skipping the last two steps and jumping down into the dining room. The tile floor clicked under my claws as I walked over to her.

"Good morning, Morida." Mother smiled.

I always thought she was a very pretty dragon. Her scales were cerulean-colored like deep water, while her teal eyes were big and expressive (like Calho's). She was always smiling warmly and spoke in a soft voice, plus, she deemed so graceful. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up, but I wasn't as pretty or nice and I was too clumsy to ever dream of being graceful.

I couldn't eat breakfast fast enough, so eager to get outside was I. Mother had to tell me twice to slow down before I choked on the food. Cal finished at the same time I did, though, so I didn't have to wait like I usually did. With a call of thanks to Mother, we were gone, down the hall and into the courtyard.

I gazed out over the floating islands before me, some small and some large. The rivers, pools, and waterrises sparkled like stars in the sunlight. I turned my excited gaze to the sky, streaked with a plethora of vivid colours set off by puffy white wisps of clouds that floating lazily by. Padding over the soft green grass that tickled my ankles, I peered over the edge of the floating island and into the swirling purple void.

"What do you think is down there?" I asked Cal, shivering with fearful delight. All I had ever been told was not to fall into it.

"Well, a big pool of water, of course. Where do you think the waterrises come from?" Cal asked matter-of-factly.

"Oh." I hadn't thought of it like that before.

"Come on, let's go!" Cal whooped before running off. I bounded aftr him, wondering what we were going to do today; every day of my life was different.

Cal and I were the only children in this world, but there were many others throughout the portals. The two I knew well were Ayrizi, a boy who was thirteen and lived in Dark Passage, and Nimbi, the seven-year-old little girl from Sky Ruler. She was more Calho's friend than mine, but she was a lot of fun. I didn't get to see the other kids that often, but it didn't matter; the homeworld never got boring.

Cal and I happened to run past one of the portals and I stopped in the tall, dewy grass to examine it. The portals were all made of blue, non-lustrous crystal and had three points at the top of it, the middle spiking higher than the others. The glided words hovering in front of this portal read 'HAUNTED TOWERS' in bold lettering.

Haunted Towers was a pretty interesting world, but it wasn't my favourite in the Dream Weavers world; Sky Ruler took that medal. As for my least favourite...

"I got it! Let's go to Jacques today!" Cal exclaimed, coming to a halt and running back over to me.

I scrunched up my face. "No way. Father said not to go there."

Jacques was a world created by a foolish dragon named Revilo, as I had been told. Revilo had overestimated his powers; he had believed he was talented enough to create a new subworld without the help of the Magic Crafters. But while he was making the world, it backfired and was filled with all sorts of evil creatures and a harsh, nightmarish land.

The monsters escaped into the other worlds, but luckily, they had been subdued before any dragon could get hurt. As punishment, Lateef banished Revilo to live in the real he had created, forever. This had all happened when I was just a hatchling.

"It's a shame," Father had said once, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "Revilo was a respectable dragon, but he was just too cocky for his own good."

"Aw, are you a scaredy-fool?" Cal taunted, bringing my back to reality.

"I am not a scaredy-fool and I'm not going," I said flatly. Hoping to divert his attention away from Jacques, I changed the subject. "Speaking of fools, why don't we go mess with them instead?"

Cal looked torn. I could tell he wanted to throw a tantrum for not getting his way, but he also did like to ram fools into the void. "...Okay," he finally said.

In case you're wondering what fools are, they're the local nuisance. As their name implies, they're foolish little creatures who run around the worlds and make trouble. I don't know why we keep them around; all I know is that it's pretty funny to see them go flying off the edge.

So we glided over to one of the medium-sized islands in our hunt. I surveyed the area; there were three fools and enough room to stay out of proximity of their attacks. Perfect. I grinned and charged forward, Cal by my side. The fools here, smart for once, figured out what we were going to do and began running around.

I laughed as I smashed into one. The female fool I had hit screamed and blubbered as she fell down, down, down until she had faded away completely.  
I never liked the female fools. They were much more... vicious than their male counterparts, as well as a deliverer of a more powerful smack. Plus, they were literally pinheads and they just looked so stupid.

Meanwhile, Cal had also knocked a male fool to the ground, but was unable to drag him off the edge. He grabbed onto the grey robes that fools always wore and began tugging.

Suddenly, there was an exclamation of "Ow!" Cal had been slapped by the angry humanoid. He backed off, his face slowly turning red.

The fool, with his orange hair sticking up in mussed tufts (the males had the nickname of carrot-top for a good reason), began to stalk towards Cal. I backed up and dashed forward, hitting the surprised fool right in the stomach. With a cry, he flew over the edge.

"You alright?" I asked Cal.

"Uh-huh."

"Good. Come on, there's one more!" I said with excitement, turning. I wasn't concerned—this happened to both of us often. Plus, as long as we weren't dying, neither of us cared what harm befell each other.

The last fool was a female, clothed in the usual grey robes, but with a breastplate on. No problem; the armor wasn't that tough and it couldn't stop me. The most it could do is give me a little jolt when I hit it.

I charged towards her, imagining her falling into a big pool of water. But just as I reached her, something horrible happened. A beam of light sailed over me and hit the fool. I looked back and realized that I had forgotten all about the cannon; powered by fools, they shot out beams of light that changed the others' sizes. The fool began to transform, growing until she loomed over me. A look of smug glee was painted on her face.

I tried to stop running, but I was going too quickly. As soon as I was close enough, the fool raised her hand back and swung it with great force. I went flying through the air, tumbling head-over-heels, and I didn't stop until I had been thrown clear over the edge.

As soon as I realized what was happening, a great terror hit me. What would happen once I hit the water way down there? From what I had learned from falling off short cliffs above rivers, hitting water _hurt._ Plus, what if I never got out?

I flapped my wings frantically, but all that did was slow my descent, and barely at that. Though I was a great glider, as were all of the other Dream Weavers—living on a mass of floating islands required it—I was too young to fly. My wings just weren't big enough to support me.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't make a sound. Silently despising the rushing feeling in my stomach, I scrunched my eyes closed. But he terrible feeling suddenly stopped. I realized that I was being carried, and when I looked up, it was my father who was carrying me.

Father was a dragon known for his kindness and good humour. His eyes were the color of the midnight sky, but their dark depths always twinkled, and he was a simple blue color with no special light or dark shade to him. He stood tall and strong, and often he was the one to resolve the occasional squabble between Cal and me. Mother just wasn't as good of a diplomat as Father was.

Father landed on the small island, set me down, and calmly kicked the fool off the island. They were really no match for an adult dragon, even when they were big.

"Now, now," Father said in that cheery way he spoke, "you shouldn't antagonize the fools."

"But they antagonize _us,"_ Cal pointed out. I didn't speak; I was so frightened that I was nearly shaking.

"Sometimes you just have to put up with fools, children, and not just the kind here. Morida, are you alright?" Father turned to me. His brow furrowed in concern.

I managed a shaky nod in response. "Yeah, just a little scared. I'm fine." I tried to act the part, straightening up and standing taller.

"In that case, it's just about time for school. Run along, now." Father smiled affectionately. I groaned good-naturedly and plodded off, followed by Calho.

All of the Dream Weavers lived in the large castle that stood proud and tall on the central island. On the island also were courtyards and streams and various flora, making it a very peaceful and serene place. Our destination, though, was the smaller castle located on the rightmost island. That palace was usually used as a rendezvous point if all of the dragons needed to meet, a guestcastle in the rare case that we had guests, and most notably as a schoolhouse for the only two pupils in the homeworld—Cal and I, of course.

It only took a few minutes to reach the castle. Cal and I briskly climbed the steps that led directly to the largest room. Lateef was waiting for us.

Lateef was a stern-looking dragon, although he was far from mean. He had a brown spike on his snout, and his scales were an elusive shade that were sometimes turquoise and sometimes the color of electricity. The color of his eyes perplexed me—they were _bright_ green. My parents sometimes joked about how I looked more like Lateef than I did them. Lateef was thin and lean, and always squinted his eyes so that he looked like he was glaring at you. I asked him why he didn't get glasses and he humphed and told me he wasn't _that_ old.

Although Lateef had a bit of a rigid personality, he did mean well. Plus, he was a friend of the family and he didn't have to be our teacher. And in a way, I kind of liked him.

"Alright, children," Lateef said once we had assembled ourselves in front of him, "today we're going to learn about the other dragon clans."

"Aw, you mean the Magic Keepers and stuff? We already know about that," I said flatly.

"That's Magic _Crafters_, young lady, and there's a lot more to it than knowing their names," Lateef said.

"Yes, Lateef," I grumbled.

"On with the lesson, then. Let's start with something familiar: us. The Dream Weavers. They call us that with good reason, for we quite literally weave dreams. Although we do not possess true magic, this is a magic of our own. We dispel the nightmares that plague the creatures of this world, and weave dreams for all."

I knew this already, but Cal didn't. "Lateef, how is it that we can weave dreams for everybody in the world?" he inquired.

"Good question. We can't. There are few of us... we are the smallest dragon clan, after all. Do you notice that sometimes you don't dream, or the dreams aren't as vivid?" Lateef asked. Cal nodded. "Well, concerning the former, we don't know who our dreams are sent to. It is completely random. Although a single Dream Weaver can produce hundreds, even thousands of dreams in a day, it just isn't enough. As for the latter, our mind can create dreams and—"

"If the mind can create dreams, then why does everybody need us?" I interrupted.

"That is also a good question. You heard me mention nightmares before, correct? Well, a long time ago, before there were Dream Weavers, people experienced nightmares very often. When the first Dream Weaver recognized his powers, he learned how to stop the nightmares from coming, and later how to weave dreams. He taught other dragons his secret, and soon the power went within them and became hereditary."

"What's hereditary?" Cal asked.

"Hereditary means that the power is passed from parent to child over the course of generations. Heredity is why you resemble the members of your family."

"Oh. I thought heredity was a spell the genies cast," I said.

Lateef stared at me for several seconds with a blank look on his face. Then, to my surprise, he burst into laughter. He laughed and laughed until he needed to lean on the wall for support. When this happened, I asked Lateef what in the dreamworld was so funny.

"Noth—" Lateef gave one last chuckle and stood up straight. "Nothing. Anyway, let's move on. The Artisan Dragons are among the most well-known, and they also are the most numerous. As their name suggests, they are skilled... artisans. In fact, a long time ago before even I was born, the Artisans built this very castle—all of the castles, actually, in all the worlds. They're a skilled and cultured race."

"How long did it take them to build the castles?" I asked.

"Five or six years," Lateef replied.

"Wow," I breathed, looking around in wonderment as if I could see the spirits of the dragons who had built this place.

"Now," Lateef said, "onto the Magic Crafters. The Magic Crafters live in seclusion, like us, in high mountain peaks. They are the most magically inclined dragons, and have an affinity for the arcane. The Magic Crafters, in fact, were the very ones who created the portals that link to other areas. But they leave the transportation between homeworlds to the balloonists."

"Are the other worlds, like Lofty Castles, real?" Cal asked.

"Some of them are, and some of them aren't. Most of our sub-worlds are the product of the combined powers of a Dream Weaver and a Magic Crafter, but this isn't the case for Sky Ruler and Icy Flight. Icy Flight is very far away from us, and Sky Ruler is just above us.

"Now, about the Peace Keepers. The Peace Keepers are the strongest dragons, as well as the most honourable. They live in a dry, desert region with almost no water. They're the defenders of the dragon clans, and have participated in many wars."

"What's a war?" I interrupted again.

"A war is a bad thing, Morida," Lateef said solemnly. "A war is when two or more sides disagree over something. The sides fight and hurt each other. The war is not over until either the two sides come to an agreement or one side is gone. Did you know that once the Peace Keepers and Magic Crafters once disagreed? There was a war then. The Peace Keepers would have surely defeated the Magic Crafters if the Beast Makers had not come to the Crafters' aid. As it was, the clans came to an agreement before the war could escalate.

"And speaking of that, let's move on to the final dragon clan: the Beast Makers. The Beast Makers, who live in a swampy region, are responsible for creating the creatures that live in the Dragon Realms, excluding the sentient species, like the mushrooms you often see hopping around here. In fact, they were the ones who created the fools."

"What? Why in the world would they do that?" I asked in disbelief. Fools were so annoying... how could anybody with sense create them?

"I think they created them just so we could have the fun of messing with them!" Cal exclaimed. I joined him in laughter, forgetting all about what had happened earlier.

"Don't kill too many of them," Lateef warned.

"Why not? It's fun!" I giggled. It _was_ fun to see them go flying off the edge, to wonder what happened to them once they got down to the bottom of the abyss.

Lateef gazed at me sadly. After a moment, he said, "That's enough for today. Class is dismissed."

_What's wrong with him?_ I thought to myself as I stood up. I turned and headed out of the room, down the steps, and out into the world. Lateef was just acting a bit sour, I guessed, so I let it go.

I turned my gaze to the sky. Were there really other worlds out there? I chided myself automatically. Of course there were. The dreams had to go somewhere—Dream Weavers didn't go through their intensive rituals just to make pretty colors, after all.

"We're home!" Cal and I chorused when we reached the castle, paws pounding against the coloured stone as we raced over it. We skidded to a stop in the kitchen.

"That was fast. How was school?" Mother asked, smiling and turning around.

"Lateef taught us our lesson quickly. We learned about the other dragon clans, like the Magic Crafters! Did they _really_ make the portals?" I asked, as if I didn't believe Lateef.

"Oh, yes. I remember when they made the portal to Icy Flight. I was just a little girl then. You know, my sister is a Magic Crafter, and so is your cousin," Mother said.

"Because of what?" Cal asked with confusion.

"Cousin. A cousin, Calho, is the child of an aunt or uncle. Aunts and uncles are your parents' brothers or sister. My sister is your aunt. Conversely, you're her nephew and Morida is her niece. Her child is your cousin. If Morida has children one day, you'll be those children's uncles, and they will be your nieces or nephews. Your children will be Morida's children's cousins." Mother was trying to explain it so that we could understand, but she wasn't doing very well. My head was spinning. Why couldn't families just be... families, without all of the complicated names?

"Uh... can the because-in and our aunt come to visit?" I asked, unable to come up with anything else to say.

Mother turned her gaze out the window. Her face had suddenly lost some of its cheeriness and she seemed so much older just then. "Maybe someday, Morida. Maybe someday. Your aunt and I... don't keep in contact, unfortunately." She clapped her paws together and brightened again. "But no time for moping around. There's so much to do, and so little time to do it. Run along, children, and try not to bother your father. He's very busy." Mother smiled softly before turning back to what she had been doing before.

Cal and I exchanged guilty glances, thinking about the fool episode. I grinned sheepishly and led Cal outside. There was still a few hours of daylight left, and I was going to make the most of it.

~~...~~

The day had been tiring. Cal and I had collapsed into our respective beds, exhausted from all the playing. We had spent a good portion of the day tagging each other and laughing until our sides hurt and we could hardly move.

I heard a shuffling from the other side of the room and awoke halfway, still keeping my eyes close. The crickets that chirped loudly outside the window seemed to be singing just for me, a lullaby that nearly pulled me back to sleep until I heard the voice.

"Momo?" It was Cal. He didn't sound tired, but I knew he was; Momo was what he had called me when he was first learning to speak. Now, he only said that when he was sleepy or angry.

"Hmm?" I asked, opening my eyes and raising my head slightly. My vision wavered for a moment. Cal was standing in the block of moonlight the window cast through the panes and looked just like a little blue ghost.

"Can I sleep with you? I-I thought I saw something scary beside the door."

I nodded and backed up against the rim of the bed to make room. Cal walked over, collapsed beside me, yawned, and settled in.

"Mo?" he murmured, already beginning to fall into slumber. "What's a desert?"

I remembered what Lateef had told us. He said the Peace Keepers lived in a desert, but what was that? He might have mispronounced, but I didn't think it was possible for somebody to live in a dessert. Unless...

"He said it wrong. He means they're in a dessert," I whispered slowly. My imagination sprung to life. "The Peace Keepers live in a castle, like us, but the walls are made out of gingerbread. The clouds and made out of thick cotton candy that melts in your mouth, and the water there isn't water, it's chocolate syrup. Everything is so..." Too tired to continue my sentence, I stopped. Cal was already asleep.

Deciding that I would very much like to be a Peace Keeper, I drifted off into dreams of another world, a world made out of all manner of sweet things. And there wasn't a fool in sight.


	2. The Crystal Statues

**A/N:**

**Credit to The Giver by Lois Lowry for the idea of dream-telling.**

* * *

"Your father had to go to work early yesterday. Three Weavers came down with a bad cold, so there was a large shortage of dreams. That is why we didn't have a dream telling yesterday," Mother explained.

The whole family was seated around the table. Cal wriggled impatiently, eager to tell everyone what he had dreamed about. I could hear voices from the other parts of the castle, and the smell of breakfast still lingered in the air.

"Who would like to tell their—" Father began.

"Me! Me!" Cal exclaimed, waving his arm in the air and nearly jumping out of his seat.

"Calho, you shouldn't interrupt your father," Mother said sternly. "But you may go first."

Cal took a deep breath and began. "Last night I dreamed I was in Dark Passage. Except, it wasn't dark. There were a bunch of dragons carrying lanterns and marching down a long passageway. I ran up to one and asked him what was going on, but he just kept going along as if I weren't there."

"Wasn't," I corrected automatically. I had a tendency to do that around him.

"Yeah, yeah," Cal said indifferently. "Anyway, I pushed my way through the crowd to see where everyone was going, but the tunnel just seemed to go on and on forever. I ran along for a while, but just as I was getting to the end, I woke up."

"Ah, I remember that. I made that one," Mother said. "I was thinking about the fools in Dark Passage, and I suppose my subconscious mixed with those thoughts and turned it into that." She laughed to herself.

Mother said she did not have any dreams. Father had a non-vivid dream about trying to catch something that was falling into a dark hole. Everybody came to the conclusion that the dream had been caused by the ruckus the fool and I had caused yesterday.

"Morida, did you have any dreams?" Father asked.

I hesitated. I _had_ dreamed last night, but I was a bit reluctant to say anything about it.

The dream wasn't clear, so I knew it hadn't been weaved. I was standing on one of the islands. Both of the castles were gone, strangely, and the waterrises were as well. The homeworld wasn't pretty anymore; grass was charred, there was nobody in sight, and the sky was red. Red like the drops of blood that squeezed out of me when I tripped and scraped myself on the ground.

The most prominent emotion I felt was loneliness. A great, overwhelming feeling that I was alone. There were no sounds, no voices, nothing. I could not speak... I couldn't even breathe.

But then something appeared in my vision. A piece of green that contrasted brightly with the blackness. It came closer and closer, but I could not tell what it was. I didn't realize that all that time I had been screaming until I woke up, heart pounding.

"Morida?" Cal asked, pulling me out of my reverie. I blinked.

"No. I did not dream." I forced a fake smile onto my face, all the while wondering why I was lying to them. I _never_ lied to my parents. Come to think of it, I didn't even lie to Cal.

There was nothing special of that dream. Everybody had nightmares sometimes. All I had to do was tell my parents and they would suck it right out of me with their magic, and then everything would be okay. I had no need to lie.

"Morida, are you ready for your weaving lessons?" Father asked, smiling at me.

I nodded, feeling miserable. Father thought I was such a good little girl, but I had lied to him. I felt dark and naughty on the inside.

We walked along together until we reached a quiet place in the courtyard. A stream bubbled along by us, and there were three stone daises rising slightly above the ground. Father chased a clock fool that was here away so there wouldn't be any distractions. Clock fools were like normal fools, except they had clocks strapped to their backs and they were invincible, for the most part. When you hit them, they activated things like platforms, causing them to rise or lower for a short time.

I scrambled up onto my platform with a little difficulty. Being that I was such a young dragon and not strong enough to walk on two legs yet, I wasn't very tall. Father climbed up onto the platform closest to me.

"Alright, Dream Weaving may look easy, but it's a very complicated process. Relax. Let your mind flow. Concentrate without concentrating," he recited.

"That doesn't make sense," I said, sitting down on my back legs and catching balance so my front paws would be free.

"You'll understand once you get the hang of it. Now start weaving. It's a bit like weaving thread; it's basically the same movements."

"I never can do it," I muttered. But I did what he said. I pretended that I was holding a needle and thread and threaded the air for a few minutes. As expected, nothing happened.

I let my mind begin to wander off, staying far away from the thought of the nightmare in favour of happier things. I remembered the time I had learned to swim, that first time my body was submerged in the cold water and how I laughed as it was thrown around in the little whirlpools. That was before Cal had come into my world.

I was always a bit lonely before Cal came; it was just this out-of-place sort of feeling. And there were no other kids around to play with—at the time, I was too young to visit the other subworlds. Sometimes I watched Father and Mother make dreams. When the dreams were done (they took anywhere from five to thirty minutes to make), they always exploded in a flash of colour. But I usually took long walks, avoiding the fools because I was so small, and thought lonely things. After Cal entered my life, I didn't have time to think like that, because I was so busy playing with him.

As I was thinking, I didn't even notice that little lines of color were being left behind by my moving claws. It wasn't until they became brighter that I saw. I looked at them, and didn't register it for a few seconds.

The lines were like little pieces of brightly colored thread, but they were made out of light. With each piece of light-thread, they blended together, like a light-blanket. This was what a dream looked like.

"I'm doing it!" I laughed giddily. "I'm doing it!" But to my horror, the threads at the end began to fade.

"Whoa, don't break your concentration!" Father exclaimed. So I looked away again and thought of the lonely walks. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that many of the threads were grey.

But just as I felt that I had almost finished the dream, my thoughts wandered back to the nightmare. I tried to push it away, but I couldn't. I could only see that green thing, coming closer, closer... Can't run...

There was an explosion. I was sent flying back and skittered along the ground. It was pretty lucky I hadn't been anywhere near a ledge! Quick as a snap, Father reached out and grabbed that dream-turned-nightmare before it could get sent out to somebody. He squashed it in his paws and it disappeared, just like that.

Meanwhile, I climbed behind the platforms and crouched down guiltily. He would surely have seen the contents of that dream. Now he would _know_ I had had nightmare. He would _know_ I had lied.

"Morida..." Father's voice didn't sound angry, but I was still scared anyway.

I had never really been punished before, but then, I'd not really ever done anything bad. When I was little, I had a "quiet time" in the corner or in my room, but when I did do something against the rules, I usually learned the first time.

Of course, now that I was big girl, eleven years old, I didn't get time-outs anymore. I mostly was just scolded, but I didn't like that it all. I felt like I was disappointing my parents somehow, and it made me feel just awful. So I did my best to avoid getting in trouble.

"Morida," Father said more sternly.

I reluctantly popped my head above the platform. "Yes?" I asked shakily.

"Come here," Father said. I complied. He looked down at me sternly, looked away, and sighed. My fear melted away then, replaced with even more guilt. I had caused him distress.

"Morida, why did you lie to me?" Father asked.

"I don't know..." I whimpered.

Father sighed again, a long, heavy sigh. "Come here and I'll fix it."

I stepped closer. Father placed a paw on my forehead and closed his eyes, concentrating. I felt... queer, like something was wrong. Then I saw a red light, tinged with black and just the slightest hint of green, out of the top of my peripheral vision. Father smashed the magic and that was all that was left of the nightmare.

There was only a wisp of the memory in my mind. It was still there, but just barely; I wasn't afraid of it for the simple reason that I couldn't remember what had scared me. But I felt even stranger than before. It was like having forgotten something, but knowing you'd forgotten it.

"Feel better?" Father asked.

"Mm-hmm." I nodded and sniffed. Father pulled me into a hug, which I accepted gratefully.

"Now, now, you know I can't just let you get away with lying to me and your mother scot-free," he said. "But I'll talk to your mother about this and see what she says."

I nodded. Although I wasn't looking forward to my punishment—something told me it might be worse than a scolding—at least I felt better.

"May I take a nap, please? I don't feel like practicing anymore," I said. The whole ordeal had tired me out. I just felt like sleeping, drifting off into a sea of comfortable blackness...

"Of course you can. Sweet dreams, Morida," Father said. I nodded and turned.

By the time I arrived home nearly ten minutes later, I could hardly keep my fatigued eyes open and tell Mother as I passed that I was going to sleep. She said something back, but I didn't hear it as I stumbled up the stairs. It seemed like forever until I reached my bed. Once I was in it, I dropped down without even bothering to get under the blanket and fell asleep before my eyes closed.

I woke up once. Still half-asleep, I rolled over. Crash! I had been on the edge and had fallen onto the floor. The bed wasn't even high up off the ground, but it still hurt.

"The floor is nicer anyway..." I mumbled to myself, too sleepy to get up. That must have looked very comical; I was half on the bed and half off it with the blanket I had pulled over me in my sleep all tangled up. Before my eyes closed again, I noticed Cal was in his bed, asleep. It must have been around twelve or one o' clock. That was when Cal took his nap on the weekends.

It seemed like I had only been asleep a moment before I woke up. I yawned and opened my eyes. Sunlight filtered through the open window and danced before me, cheering me up immediately, and I felt so much better now. I stood and stretched my aching legs. Well, maybe sleeping on the floor wasn't a good idea.

I turned to the doorway and passed by Cal's bed, only stopping to glance at him as I continued forward. But a moment after looking at him, and stopped in my tracks and spun around. There was something around Cal's bed. Upon closer inspection, I realized in was some sort of circular pedestal, made of blue crystal. I squinted at it and cocked my head, before stepping forward with much trepidation and placing a paw on the crystal.

Nothing happened, except for a light glow forming around my paw. The crystal was cool to the touch, and I could feel the magic emanating from it. It was a different type of magic, though, not like Weaver magic.

I placed another paw on the pedestal and slowly leaned forward. I was frightened, but I didn't know why. Slowly, I pulled the blanket off, then gasped and jumped back.

"C-Cal?" I asked, voice shaking. As expected, I didn't get an answer. I stepped forward again and looked.

Cal was stiff, too stiff. His colour was off... the once royal blue scales were now green. His scales were almost like gems, just not as lustrous. Gems looked like little coloured diamonds; this was a more pearly. Cal was curled into a ball, his nose resting on his leg, but he wasn't breathing.

I gently touched Cal and shuddered. He was smooth and cold, so very cold. Gathering my courage, I tried to grab his arm, but I couldn't. It was attached to his face—and I noticed that it didn't have eyes, nor a mouth or nose. So that meant... Cal had been turned to crystal.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. How? _Why?_ I backed away and turned, fleeing. As I was running down the stairs, I tripped and fell onto my head, rolling down until I roughly hit the floor. I groaned and pushed myself up.

"M-Mother?" I asked. My vision wavered and I reeled as I stood.

I saw the pedestal first. Fear took a firm grip on me, but I willed myself to look up. And there was Mother. She was made out of the same material Cal was, but she wasn't laying down. She was on four legs, with her tail wrapped around her, staring right at me with nonexistent eyes. I cried out. The world rocked and flickered as I moved towards her, and I fainted before I hit the ground.

~~...~~

My eyes fluttered open. I groaned and managed to pulled myself into a sitting position. Realizing what was in front of me, I stared at the statue for a few moments before it got through my head and scooted away until my back hit the wall. So it really was real.

But if Mother and Calho were turned to crystal... why wasn't I? And where was everybody else? Were they trapped too?

I turned and walked slowly down the hall, feet dragging. What was I going to do? I had so many questions, but no answers.

I halted in my tracks the moment I stepped outside and stared, dumbfounded, at the sky as balloons began to rise up above the land. I'd seen balloons before, but never had I witnessed any like this.

The basket was wide, like a whole room, and the balloon looked like it could span the castle. Of course, not really, but it _looked_ like it from there. The material that made it was green. The balloons I had seen were made of red material and the basket was only small enough for two or three. This was... amazing, frightening, but most of all, I felt strange.

_Go back inside! Turn back!_ something inside me hissed. I glanced at the castle, then back to the balloons again; I couldn't seem to tear my eyes from them. I did not notice I was walking forward until I was almost at the edge of the islands.

The balloon was clearly visible now, but I noticed strange things inside of the basket. Some were big, some were small, but they all were green with two sharp teeth jutting out of their mouths. The large ones were wearing armour that sparkled in the sun, while the small ones wore brown helmets that were too much big for them.

I stared up at the ugly creatures and they stared back. Some of them made strange, harsh sounds in their throats and turned back to the others. Whatever they were saying, I couldn't understand it.

A rope was thrown over the basket and the small creatures slid down, one after the other. The big ones merely jumped over the edge, nearly shaking the ground as they landed. I glanced warily at the clubs the large creatures held.

They began to walk towards me. For every step they took, I took one back. Something just wasn't right, and my prediction was spot-on. Before I knew it, they began sprinting towards me. Widening my eyes in fear, I turned and bolted.

My feet pounded on the grass as I raced for the castle. I could hear them behind me, but I daren't look back. Finally, after a heart-pounding chase, I reached the end of the island and glided over to the other side. Relief flooded over me. I turned back to the creatures who stood on the other side, unsure what to do, and settled for sticking my tongue out.

I turned around, intending to go back into the castle, and found myself face-to-face with another of those monsters. A scream escaped my throat and—mercy me, who knew I was so bold?—I charged right into the green whatever-it-was. It fell over and I was free to continue running.

Rounding a bend, yet another band of these strange things took up the pursuit. I lowered my head level with my neck and ran faster, feet hitting the ground and pushing me forward. There was no way to shake them, though, and I was chased right into the castle. But then something horrible happened.

Rounding a bend, I slipped on the smooth floor and landed on my face. My jaw collided with the ground and I spit out a bloody baby tooth, but that was the least of my fears. A hand, cold as ice and so slimy that it made me shiver, grabbed my leg. I was lifted up by it.

I heard a strange noise, deep but scratchy. Looking up, I saw the upside-down version of one of the large monsters, quaking with laughter. I struggled to get free, but that only made it laugh harder until I was shaking back and forth like pendulum.

Rage, fear, and indignity welled up inside me, a burst of emotions. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I swung myself towards the green belly and bit down as hard as I could. The owner of it howled in pain and dropped me, allowing me to scramble to my feet and run.

I dashed up the stairs, only glancing at Mother's statue, and skidded into my room. Immediately, I slammed the door shut and managed to push my bed up against it. I sat on the bed and leaned against the door, waiting for what I knew was coming.

Slam! Slam! Slam! The creatures rammed into it. I pushed against the door with all my might and main. I wasn't strong at all, so I guess the bed helped. After many minutes of terror, the slamming finally stopped. Heart pounding, I leaned against the door and listened as the creatures' footsteps tromped down the stairs and faded away. Finally, with a great sigh of relief, I leaned back on my haunches.

I sat there for a very long time, staring at the floor. It was not until the light in my room began to dim that I stood up. Slowly, I walked over to the window and looked down.

The balloons were gone. I was not sure where they had disappeared to. Dotted across the islands were many dancing flames, and I could see the beady black eyes of the creatures even from that high up. I turned my morose gaze to the clouds that were beginning to fade into the night. Only a tinge of purple was left on those closest to the horizon.

Clouds... when I was young, I had spent hours staring up at the clouds. Why?

I had always had trouble weaving dreams. For the most part, nothing ever happened. And the other times, the magic would explode in my face as soon as it appeared. The clouds, in the day, sparkled and glittered as if they were filled with gems. The golden clouds were the best of all. I took up the notion that the sparkling was literally magic and if I could just reach a cloud, I would be able to seize the magic and make a dream.

Cloud Ruler wasn't enough. The clouds there were puffy and white. Fun to walk and play in, but they just didn't possess the mystical properties the clouds in my homeworld did. So every day I tried to fly, and every day I failed.

Of course, I had dropped that silly notion long ago. There was no magic in the _clouds_. Magic was within all dragons, you just had to tap it. I wasn't trying hard enough, or maybe I was "special", a word grown-ups used to describe somebody who was less capable than others. In any case, I still loved to look at the beautiful clouds.

But now, the things that has once comforted me did nothing to soothe my fears. I sighed and shut the windows, carefully placing the bar over the handles so nobody could come in, and retreated back to my bed that sat in the pitch-black darkness. I wiped the slime off my back leg and licked the blanket several times to get the awful taste out of my mouth before I got into bed.

_What am I going to do?_ I thought before I drifted off to sleep. Would my family be forever trapped in crystal? Why wasn't I trapped myself? Could I fend off these strange creatures? And the worst question of all... What would happen if they caught me?

Perhaps tomorrow would bring the answers.


	3. Pulse of the World

Morning descended over the land quickly, though I didn't notice in the dim twilight wrapped around me. Sleep had not come easily after the horrors of the previous night, but eventually, I drifted off. There were no dreams.

Now, the blank darkness sleep brought was my only reprieve. Deep down, I didn't want to wake up ever again... but though the sun didn't touch my face, I could not stay asleep forever.

My eyes slowly opened, and though my eyelids threatened to fall back down every second, I managed to keep them up. I drowsily searched for the sliver of light that usually rested on the floor when I awoke, listened in vain for Mother to call, "Mo_ri_da, we're all waiting for you!" But her soft voice didn't breeze up the stairs like it usually did.

By then, I was no longer half asleep and the realization had sunk in. But a part of me clung resolutely to the hope that it wasn't real even though everything pointed against it. My bed was still pushed against the door, I could feel the hollow where a tooth had once been, and my leg stung where the monster's claws had dug into it. Nonetheless, I slowly stood up and walked over to the window.

My arm shook when I pushed up the bar and even more so when I tried to pull in the wooden sides. I had to release the breath I didn't know I'd been holding and tell myself very sternly to calm down before I could get a grip and open the window.

I walked cautiously over to the edge and peered over. The terrible monsters were gone, but I still had the last piece of evidence I needed to confirm my fears—I could clearly see the ashes of their fires and the bones stripped of meat that lay abandoned around them.

Releasing a shuddering breath, I backed away. As much as I wished it was just a dream—oh, if Cal knew how to weave, he'd surely figure out how to give specific people dreams just to throw something like this at me—I knew it was true. Everybody was trapped in crystal, all except for me.

That same question arose again: why? It came in many different forms this time, though. Why wasn't I trapped in stone? Why did those creatures come here? And, most of all, why _me?_

Perhaps this was my fault. I'd never lied in my whole life until that day, and look at what happened. What if everybody remained sealed away, and I would be forced to live on my own forever?

I gazed out the window again. Fools, confused, ran over the islands. Even from where I stood, I could hear their frantic blubbering and screaming. In addition, the tiny mushrooms hopping about down there could be clearly seen, blissfully unaware of what was going on. Of course they wouldn't be, though—they were just stupid fodder, serving no purpose except as food for us.

_But if everybody's trapped,_ I thought, _why aren't they? _This had to mean something, if only the dragons had turned and nobody else. I glanced uneasily at the pile of blankets heaped over Cal, or what was left of him, and a chill ran down my spine.

Never again would Cal, with a yawn and a blink, smile and rise to follow me downstairs. Nor would we run across the islands, laughing so hard that we could barely breathe. Cal would not ever again call me Momo, the name I detested so much, or throw a tantrum, or push me off a cliff into the water.

_I can't give up yet, _I thought firmly. Maybe it was just this world; the dragons in the others might be fine. They could fix this. Releasing a breath, I spun on my heels and walked over to the door. I somehow managed to shove the bed out of the way and swung the door open as quickly as I could.

_No monsters in sight. Good,_ I thought as I peered down the dark stairway. I continued my journey and descended the stairs slowly but surely. When I reached the bottom, I peeked into the kitchen, but only Mother was there. She sat in the same place as before, staring forward with shocking concentration. Still feeling a bit uneasy around her statue, I slinked through the kitchen, pausing only to sigh.

It was dark in here, the only light coming from a little window above the counter that spanned the whole eastern wall. It was a pretty two-paned glass window that reflected light into all sort of pretty shapes and was quite unlike the simple, glassless window in my room that didn't even securely shut unless it was barred.

One of the cabinets that sat above them was slightly ajar, implying Mother was just about to put something away when... _it_ happened. I squinted through the darkness and managed to get over to the hallway. Usually, there were quite a few lanterns about. I loved to watch the dancing coloured lights that glowed mysteriously in their casing, setting the room aglow with vibrant colours. Mother once told me that most of the other clans used fire, not magic, to light dark places. It seemed strange to me that they'd do that, though; even the monsters' little fires were impractical. Flames were only good during the cold months for warmth; the lanterns cast a much brighter light.

Sighing, I wished I could proficiently weave so I could make a light to carry about in a lantern. I'd seen Father make one before; it looked at first like he was weaving a dream, but instead of sending it out, he shaped it like an artisan shapes pottery and delicately put the little ball he had made into a lantern so it wouldn't fly away. It was a beautiful glowing white that sparkled like water in the sun. When he was done with it, Father took it out of the lantern, untangled the light-threads, and let go so it would be sent out.

That was the time Cal had gone missing, one late summer night. I had been in my room at the time, staring at the moon as it began to rise and cool the world, when I looked up and realized Cal was not there. He had been just a minute ago; nightfall was when Cal went to bed and last time I looked back, he'd been laying there soundly asleep. But now the sheets had been carelessly thrown off the bed and there was nobody in it.

Running downstairs, I reported this to my parents who immediately began to search the castle. The other residents had not seen Cal and he was nowhere to be found in our section of the palace. Father and Mother prepared to search the islands when I made up my mind to come too.

"Please?" I begged, eight-year-old eyes shining in the glow of the lantern my Father had just grabbed. "I want to help. I can carry the lantern."

"Hmm..." Father hesitated and for a moment I thought that he would say no. "Alright, but stay right beside me."

Overjoyed, I took the lantern in my teeth, but I managed to calm down before we set out for the hallway. This had to be taken seriously; Cal could be anywhere. He could even be—no! I could not think of that. Cal was fine... He had to be fine.

Through the dark hall we trudged, our footsteps echoing and rebounding until I felt as if a million dragons followed us. The lights in other lanterns that hung from the walls were beginning to burn out now, as they always did when the day had fully drawn to a close. Nobody left the castle after dark. Too dangerous, with fools running about and all the ledges one could accidentally step off.

Now, it was even more dangerous. The moon was only a tiny sliver in the sky, and would probably have faded completely by the next day. The homeworld was an eerie sort of dark that I'd never seen before and never hoped to see again. Shadows ran rampant along the ground and swallowed the guestcastle that stood uncomplaining on a far island. The vortex swirled enticingly below us, the hues of purple and blue just begging to meet me, but I resisted their influence.

I looked about uneasily. Beyond the shady masses, the only thing I could see was the glimmer of a golden letter that hovered above some portal. Other than that, there was only the darkness. Father took a step forward and I followed.

_Eeeeeek! _I nearly dropped the lantern when I heard that awful noise, but with my teeth clamped to the wooden handle, I merely backpedaled away. The more I moved, the more the noise resounded through the air and shattered the beautiful silence.

"Morida, it's just the lantern," Father called softly. I ceased my panic and looked down. The handle had begun to squeak, that was all. Feeling foolish, I trudged up beside Father and we continued on.

The lantern squawked softly as we walked along, Father checking every crevice and and me dragging the light to every hole. Cal was never there; the only living things about were the fools. When I happened to glance to the side, I'd always see their black, beady eyes staring at us. They never seemed to sleep; day or night they trudged about and waited. Frightened, though I tried to pretend I wasn't, I drew nearer to Father and wondered what they would do if I left the castle alone.

As we passed a stream, I stopped to stare down into its murky depths that not even the magical light could penetrate. If Cal had happened to fall in... he couldn't swim. The rivers were narrow and their current dragged you towards the islands, of course, but the water was deep, too deep for little Calho.

Every minute that passed, my fear began to grow and many dark possibilities raced through my mind. At one point, I remember Father, with a concerned light in his eyes, asking if I wanted to go home.

"No!" was my response, and though my voice cracked, I knew I could not leave Cal.

It seemed as if hours passed as we continued to scout the island. Just as we were considering checking the subworld, we found him. He was sitting on the bank of the river, staring at...

"What?" I breathed.

Startled, Cal turned to look at us with innocent blue eyes; he was oblivious to the panic he had caused our family and the fear that, right at that moment, had melted off me. Cal wasn't even my focus now, though; it was what was in front of them. The harder I stared, the more confused and enchanted I grew.

Lights... Tiny golden lights that danced about above the water, casting their feeble glow upon it. They barely made a dent in the darkness, but I felt at that moment they were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I could not speak nor breathe, so mystified was I.

Father didn't even seem to notice the lights. His face, that had been previously drawn the way it always was when he was anxious, now showed pure relief. Walking over to Cal, he scooped him up in his arms.

Calho, in response, only pointed to the lights. "Look," he said simply. Even at two he didn't speak much, but that one little word was all he'd ever need to say.

Father, still carrying Cal in one arm, stepped up to the water's edge and reached out his paw. The lights, in one fluid motion, flew to his outstretched arm and flocked around it. Cal reached out again and one of the golden fires danced merrily towards him and landed on the tip of his claw.

"Look," Cal repeated, holding the light towards me. Gingerly, I reached for it, and it happily bounced to another new person.

Setting down the lantern, I stared at the little glowing ball. When I gently closed my claws around it, the fire would burn ever brighter, but if I allowed it to walk freely across my hand—its footsteps tickled, and I knew that somehow it was alive—the light would gradually fade out and back in again. It was the pulse of the world; the slow but steady heartbeat of everything that was and ever would be.

I think it was at that moment I realized there was more than just the Dream Weavers out there. Somewhere, there was another world—a world of golden glowing lights that would never, ever stop burning. My father's next words seemed to confirm this.

"You're far from home, aren't you?" he asked the creatures. When he spoke, the one that sat on my paw floated over to him to join his companions. "Go on, then. Find your way back home." Father stepped towards the edge of the island we stood on and, once they sighted a way out, the creatures seemed to explode from his paw. Flashing in near-perfect time, they flew down, down, down into the void. I watched them until the darkness consumed their feeble lights completely.

"Come on, Morida," Father said. "Let's go home. It's very late now, way past your bedtime."

Nodding, I picked up the lantern and followed him. Though I heard his words I did not understand them; I was locked in a reverie. Over and over I saw those golden glows fading into the darkness, relived the moment where I stared at the one who had been so close, so small, and so unafraid.

When we reached the castle a few minutes later, I stalled at the door. "Father? What are they?"

"Fireflies," was the hushed reply.

I waited for more explanation as I slipped into the cool darkness of the hallway, securely pulling the great doors closed behind me, but he said no more. Impatiently, I asked, "Where did they come from?"

"Far away—in places that not even I have seen."

"Father," I said, somehow daring myself to ask, "if we went back and one was still there, could I—could I maybe keep it?"

Father only shook his head. "They don't belong here, Morida. If you kept one of the fireflies, it would die."

"Oh." It was all I could bring myself to say. I so yearned to have one of them as my own, to follow me about and light up the dark. But if I kept a firefly, it would fade. I understood then that it was not something like the light in the lantern that could be conjured up at will and then put away again for when I wanted it. No, I thought as I passed through the pale moonlight cast in through the window, fireflies were not supposed to be kept. They were meant to roam free through the world, and if I tried to take that away, they would die.

And here I was again, standing in the light cast by the window nearest to our part of the castle—right side, fourth down. Now, it was morning rather than night and bright light filtered in cheerily through the thick panes. But though the sun had set, it had not risen—at least not for me.

I felt aimless as I made my way outside, as though I was lost in the place I'd grown up in. There wasn't a single green monster in sight, only the fools. There seemed to be less than usual, as if they had been picked off in the night. Usually, the Beast Makers warped in a steady stream of them as they did for all creatures, but now their numbers dwindled.

Even the fools seemed anxious. They huddled together in little groups and stared at me with dead or confused eyes that lacked the prideful arrogance that they always seemed to possess. They were scared, every last one, and for the first time I felt sympathy for them. They knew no more than I did, and asked the same questions. I could almost feel their thoughts. _Who are these creatures that have invaded our home? Why do the dragons sit unmoving? And how do you go about freely while the others are locked away?_

I had no more answers than I did ten minutes ago and the fools' pleading gazes didn't help me conjure any up. Sighing, I continued to walk purposelessly about—until I tripped over something suddenly and without warning. With a cry, I fell down onto already-trampled grass. Thinking they were after me again, I screamed at nonexistent monsters, kicking incessantly at the air until I realized that my blows weren't colliding. Sitting up, I realized that there was nobody around at all, except a pair of fools who were staring at me with odd looks on their faces. But what had I...?

Looking down, I spied something glimmering in the dirt. Carefully digging at it and brushing off the smudges, I found nothing other than a simple red gem. I stood up and glanced around the area, and a quick search revealed that gems were in fact scattered _everywhere. _But how had they gotten out here when they were supposed to be secure in the treasury?

It dawned on me then. The thieves must have smashed the barred door open, stolen all our gems, and dropped some on their way out! Filled with anger at the insolence of these creatures—first they storm the place, try to capture me, and then take our gems?!—I stormed off. Everything was going wrong!

With a sigh of irritation, I glanced at the horizon. On it was a red speck, and it seemed to be growing rapidly. A... balloon? "Great," I growled. "More of them." Though usually I would have rushed back to the castle, barely even able to walk for all I was so scared, but now I just didn't _care. _A part of me even wanted to be captured. Perhaps whoever the monsters took me to would at least tell me what was going on.

_Or not, _my mind reminded me. There was always the possibility that their leader was just like them, only able to communicate with unintelligible growls.

As I walked about, pondering going with my plan and escaping into one of the portals—the possibility that more monsters were there drove me from it—I wandered onto the inlet where the balloonist usually stood. The great balloon still sat there, deflated yet proud, its colours clashing; bright crimson with the Dream Weaver's symbol inked on it in black. Two slender lines crossing at the middle with a boldly drawn curves on either side.

"To symbolize our nature of solitude," Lateef had once explained a long time ago, "and our unity as well."

"How does that make sense?" I'd asked, head falling to the side.

Taking a piece of paper, he drew the crossing lines perfectly. "We're all a part of each other here." Then he drew the divided lines, standing tall and proud, on both sides. "But they are not."

I traced a claw over the designs, delicately to follow the little curves. "Why?"

"We're all divided, Morida," Lateef said softly. "The same yet different."

I still didn't understand what he'd meant. The other clans were not here with us, so I understood that we were divided, but how can you be the same and different at the same time? Together and apart?

"The wind is terrible today," I mumbled to myself. Even in our current location, way up among the clouds, the gusts were usually mild. But now the breeze began to kick up until I could hear it whirling in my ears and it was almost at the point where I had to struggle not to stumble back.

Deciding to head back to the castle, I looked up, and immediately jumped at what I saw. The balloon! How had it—? Right... the wind. The balloon was sailing rapidly towards the island and didn't seem to be slowing down, but I could already see that it was certainly the type of balloon that was officially used for transportation between clans. The symbol etched on it was unfamiliar, two horizontal lines with a single vertical line running through them, as well as tiny diagonal etchings between the places where they crossed. But it seemed to give me a sense of strength, so... perhaps it was a Peace Keeper or Beast Maker balloon? Had the monsters stolen it?

No, those were not monsters in the balloon—in fact, what were they? By the time they got close enough to tell, I could easily see the whole thing was out of control.

"Look out!" It was the scratchy, rough voice of a balloonist that screamed over the wind. I heeded his order, ducking, and the balloon seemed to whiz right past my face.

_Crash! _The noise was enough to tell me what had happened. By the time I had stood and whipped around, the balloon was already just a heap on the ground in front of the guestcastle.

Heart pounding half in excitement and half in fear, I crossed the islands in a second and skidded to a stop near the overturned basket. Luckily, nothing had been damaged, not even the castle the balloon had collided with. I felt relief wash over me; perhaps the balloonist and the others that were with him could tell me what was going on! A part of me that I quickly dampened wondered if they were perhaps hostile.

I did my best to help lift the thick, heavy rubber off the squirming passengers. The balloonist was the first to emerge. He had similar equipment to Amos, the resident balloonist, except he wore a sunny yellow shirt and green pants rather than the blue robe Amos always wore. In addition, Amos' bandana, that always covered his mouth, was a pale lavender rather than fiery red.

"Thanks, kid," the balloonist heaved. "I owe ya one. Cray's the name. But let's skip the introduction and help the other one out."

Nodding, Cray and I, with a mighty heave, managed to push the balloon off of the person under it. Struggling, he managed to get to his feet, then before I could even catch a glimpse of him was right back under the balloon, yelling something that was too muffled to be deciphered.

When he emerged again, something was following him. It was some sort of insect, reminiscent of the fireflies I had seen so long ago, except the glow this one emitted was even more intense. There was another difference—this creature was glowing blue rather than gold.

"Thought I lost you, pal. Hey—thanks, uh...?" My attention snapped to the speaker, and I don't think I'll ever forget that moment.

The second we locked eyes, I felt as if I was being dragged back years and years, to a time when I was nothing, yet I mattered more than anything. Before Calho, before Mother and Father, before even the Dream Weavers, back and back and back to a time I could not possibly recall. It was an overwhelming feeling that left me confused at its incomprehension. But that first look was like staring at a mirror—except the mirror didn't contain my reflection, nor the boy's.

"Morida." The statement was absentminded and I wasn't entirely sure if that was even my name. I felt dazed, confused, and I couldn't seem to shake it.

The dragon before me didn't seem to be experiencing the same thing; purple eyes that matched the colour of his scales betrayed nothing. Standing only a little higher than me, I noted, he looked to be around my age.

"Spyro," he returned, successfully managing to snap me out of it. I didn't think of the trance again. "Um... how did you get out?"

"Out?" I echoed.

"Of crystal?"

"Wait, you know what's going on? Can you tell me?" I asked, eyes lighting up. Finally!

"Hey!" Cray yelled, waving a hand with thick tan gloves at us. "I hate to interrupt, but do you know anywhere I can get this repaired?"

"Amos, our balloonist, should be around here somewhere," I offered.

Grumbling, Cray walked off. The only thing I caught from his incessant rambling was a semi-audible mutter of, "Dagnabbit, I told the kid... too windy today... but, no! He's just _gotta_ save..."

"Save what?" I asked, turning back to Spyro. "Can you get everyone out of the crystal? How? I tried, but I couldn't figure it out."

Spyro shot me an odd look, one eyebrow arched, the face that seemed to be the one he most favoured giving as he'd soon shoot it at me often. "Just step on the crystal."

"I _did _that," I said, frustrated, "but it only glowed a bit. My brother's still trapped in there!"

Sighing in exasperation, Spyro walked forward and motioned for me to follow. "Just look, it's easy."

The remembrance came to me that Spyro was not a Dream Weaver. I hesitated for a moment, still unsure whether to trust this... outsider. I couldn't ever remember having associated with dragons from other clans and I wasn't sure what they were like. I'd seen them a few times from my bedroom window that I cautiously peered out from, tall adults from the other clans who only stayed for a day or two before disappearing again in the balloons. I'd always stayed inside when they were here, as the distrust all Dream Weavers felt for outlanders had rubbed off onto me. But now my curiosity smothered the distrust and I gingerly walked after Spyro.

"What kind of a name is Morida, anyway?" Spyro asked as we walked along towards a statue that stood in the courtyard.

"What kind of a name is Spyro?" I asked indignantly, wondering how someone could be so insolent.

"Touché," was the murmured reply; by then Spyro's attention was on something else. With a pause, he walked over to one of the mushrooms that bounced happily about. Swiping his paw at it, the delicate creature fell mid-bounce, dead.

I opened my mouth to ask Spyro why in the dreamworld he did that, but before I could utter a single word, something amazing happened. Like an angel, a butterfly seemed to rise out of the core of the mushroom. Its wings, a pale pink and yellow, flapped slowly as it rose and circled the air. And then, in one swift movement, the creature that followed Spyro about seemed to swallow the butterfly whole and a moment later its blue glow faded into a bright, sunny yellow.

"You okay, Sparx?" In response to Spyro's question, the creature buzzed happily. "Good. Hey, Morida, what's the matter?"

Blinking, I came to. I must have quite the look on my face. "What just _happened?"_

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked coolly, continuing on the way towards the statue.

Running to catch up, I walked along besides him. "A butterfly just came out of the mushroom and that thing following you turned gold! How can you just act like nothing happened?"

"He's a _dragonfly," _Spyro said pointedly, "and they eat the souls of small creatures. Don't you know anything about them?" Noting my blank look, he sighed. "Dragonflies are a bit like guardians. When they follow a dragon and he gets hit, the dragonfly will absorb the damage. Most can only take three hits until they fade."

"Fade? You mean die?"

"Dragonflies can't die, at least not like that. Once a dragonfly becomes attached to you, it won't leave. The only way they _can _die is by you getting hit too much, causing them to fade, and then getting killed yourself. You can bring them back by killing a small creature so the butterfly is released. Don't they teach this stuff to you in school?"

"We don't have dragonflies," I said, perplexed yet intrigued. "The only thing we really have are fools. But I've killed plenty of those mushrooms and that never happened."

"Dragonflies help us channel magic in different ways, which is why that happens when I killed it."

Spyro said nothing more after this and I ran out of questions, so the rest of the walk was rather silent. I spent the time pondering over what he'd told me, and the more I did, the more I wondered what his world was like. Why, if a simple dragonfly could do all of that, then what other amazing things could be found wherever he lived?

Soon, we arrived at the crystal statue and stood before it. That was definitely Lateef in there, and he looked to be mid-walk, on his way back to the castle. Staring at him, I circled around to the front, wondering if he could see me in there.

Shaking my head so I could concentrate, I turned to Spyro and said, "Now look." I stepped forward onto the pedestal and, just as I predicted, nothing happened. A warm glow pulsated through the statue, radiating from my paw, but that was it. As I stepped off, the tendrils of light faded.

Spyro's expression changed from an I'm-going-to-tell-you-so look to blank disbelief. Walking forward, he placed a paw on the pedestal and immediately hopped back.

The flash that absorbed my vision nearly blinded me, and it was fortunate that I hit the wall of an archway near us or I would have backed right off the island. It took several seconds of dizzying panic, but my sight returned to me.

As the world faded into view, I saw Lateef there, sprawled on the ground and looking just as shocked as I must have. Spyro didn't seem to be affected at all by the flash, nor did the dragonfly—Sparx, I think?

Lateef, climbing onto wobbling feet, barely managed to cough out the words, "What happened?"

"Something trapped you in crystal," I said, then motioned to Spyro. "He saved you."

"Oh." Lateef stared at Spyro, then everything clicked back into place and he nearly jumped five feet into the air in his surprise. "Oh! A visitor! I can't believe it; it must have been at least three years since we've had one... First of all, my name is Lateef. Welcome to the Dream Weavers Homeworld, um..."

Knowing Lateef was about to plunge into his ten-minute introductory speech that he gave every visitor and newcomer, I interrupted before he could learn Spyro's name and continue on with it. "His name's Spyro. Lateef, everybody is trapped. We need to get them out."

"Actually," Spyro said, "that's what I'm here for, to release all the dragons and get rid of the gnorcs. I've already saved all the other worlds."

"Gnorcs?" Lateef and I spoke at the same time, but my voice expressed confusion while Lateef's showed disbelief. "What's happened, Spyro? Why are the gnorcs attacking us?"

"Gnasty Gnorc cast a spell that trapped every dragon in crystal and he used the abandoned gems in the treasuries to create gnorcs," Spyro said testily, conveying that he'd needed to explain this more than once. "He missed me, so I'm travelling to all the clans to help free them, and when I'm done here I'm going after Gnasty."

"You? Facing Gnasty Gnorc on your own?" Lateef asked in shock. "But you're just a young dragon! He'll surely defeat you."

"I've made it this far," was the answer, the bold voice showing a hint of irritation at Lateef's affirmation.

"Well, you can't do this on your own. I'm going to stop him." At this, Lateef took a step forward and immediately fell over again. Flustered, he scrambled back up to his feet and declared defiantly, "Gnasty Gnorc can't be allowed to win!"

My head whipped back and forth between to the two speakers until I thought it might roll off. At this point, I couldn't take it anymore. My confusion overwhelmed me and I cried, "Who's Gnasty Gnorc?!"

Lateef, drained from his heroic burst, sunk down to the ground with a sigh at my question. "Your parents and I hoped we wouldn't have to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Gnasty Gnorc is a creature composed of nothing but hate and malice. Long ago, the leaders of each clan—that includes me—sealed him away in a place called the Dragon Junkyard where everyone thought he couldn't hurt anyone. It would seem that we were wrong."

"But why did you lock him away?"

"He was a danger to us all, Morida. Chaos is the only thing he understands."

Plopping down to the ground, my eyes narrowed as I went over this information. What was so bad that he wouldn't want me to know about it? "You're not telling me everything."

Lateef's pale green eyes stared down at me, scanning my face. Finally, he said, "That is a story for another day. For now, just know that Gnasty Gnorc is a vile creature and he must be stopped before he can take over the realms. But with the Dream Weavers' worlds in such disarray, I don't think I'll be able to help right now."

"Like I said, I can handle this on my own," Spyro interjected. "You need to rest. I'll take care of this."

Lateef nodded reluctantly, his stiff and aching limbs winning out over his better judgment. He said wearily, "If you need me, I'll be in the castle. Please send the other dragons that way once they're freed." And with that, he was gone.

Spyro, seemingly relieved to have one less presence about, walked over to the edge of the island and stood there, surveying the area. "How many gems do you have here?"

"In total? About two thousand five hundred, I think. Hey—where are you going?" I followed Spyro as he glided down to the island below. Once we landed, I nearly had to skip to keep up with his quick strides.

"First I'm going to collect all the gems I can find so the others don't have to, and then I'm going to release all the trapped dragons," was the short reply.

"Can I help?"

"If you want to help, go collect some gems." It seemed like Spyro wanted to get away from me as soon as possible, as if he was afraid of talking to anyone.

Irritated with Spyro's rudeness and at being given such an inane task, I shouted, "Will you hold still for a second?!" Sighing, the purple dragon halted. "I mean help you get through the worlds. It's dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

"I'll be fine," Spyro said, continuing on. I resumed the pace so he spun around, eyes burning like fire and taking me off-guard for a moment. "And would you quit following me?"

"Fool," I said in reply.

"Huh?"

A fool stood behind Spyro, a gleeful grin painted on his face as he raised his large hand to slap Spyro. Just as the latter turned around, the fool swung his arm. If I hadn't dashed forward at the last moment, ramming into the carrot-top and sending him flying, the smack surely would have collided.

Sitting down on the ground, I curled my tail around my legs and smiled sugar-sweet at Spyro. I hadn't learned nothing from my mischievous little brother, after all. He did this type of thing to me all the time—and that perfect what-did-I-tell-you look never failed to aggravate me into doing whatever it was he wanted.

"I would have noticed him if you hadn't distracted me." Spyro glared as if trying to stare me down, but as predicted, he relented with a sigh. "Fine, you can follow me. But I won't need any help again." Turning around, he found himself nearly face-to-face with the same angry fool from before.

I repeated the procedure (not without taking a moment to glance pointedly at Spyro), but this time I sent the fool flying off the edge so he wouldn't bother us again. Spyro shot another glare my way, but I blissfully ignored it; I was happy to finally shake the chains that would have eternally bound me and I would let nothing dilute that.

The sun had finally risen on my world. Like a firefly it danced up into the sky, shining brighter than the stars, and lit up the darkness that I thought would last forever.


End file.
